Me and your man were in a taxi. On our way to the airport in Boston.
‘You Irish?’ the taxi driver asked.
‘Yep’ we told him.
‘So am I’ he said ‘You look like that guy Gerry Adams,’ he said.
’You know he can’t get into this country. It’s a disgrace’.
Your man looked at me. The taxi driver looked in his mirror at the two of us.
‘You probably get this all the time,’ he continued.
‘But the resemblance is amazing He is my President. I tell all my customers that. Especially the Brits. They have a nerve. Keeping him out. Our government needs to take a stand.’
‘What’s your name?’ I asked.
‘Bob’ he replied. ‘I love the Irish. Jimmy Cagney! I love Gerry Adams and Jimmy Cagney. Saw a great movie. All about the IRA. Shake Hands With The Devil. Saw it years ago. Jimmy Cagney made great movies. Forget about Sinatra and the Chairman of the Board and all that Italian bullshit. The Irish ran Hollywood. Jimmy Cagney and Spencer Tracey. And Maureen O Hara and Johnny O Wayne. They were real stars!’
‘Johnny O Wayne’ your man queried.
‘Yup’ Bob went on.’ As Irish as shamrock. John Wayne was his stage name. He made great movies too. You guys flying Aer Lingus? You here on business?’
‘At a conference. The Boston – Northwest Ireland: Golden Bridges.’ Your man said.
‘It was very good. All about building bridges of goodwill and commerce, culture and education between Massachusetts and Northwest Ireland. It is hosted annually by the Irish Echo.’
‘Read it all the time’ said Bob. ‘Great paper.’
‘Yes’ said your man. ‘It is. I keep in touch with what’s happening here in Irish America by going online. The Irish Echo is Irish America’s oldest — and biggest-selling newspaper. It is distributed across the USA and beyond through the internet.’
By now we were at the Airport. Bob helped us with our bags.
‘Have a good flight’ he told us ‘Give my regards to the old country. And to Gerry Adams. I wish that guy the best of good old Irish luck’
‘Ok’ we told him. ‘Good luck to you too’.
And then he was gone. Me and your man made our way towards our gate.
‘Johnny O Wayne?’ I said to your man.
‘Jimmy Cagney?’ your man said to me. ‘You dirty rat!’